


The Things We Love In The Dark

by thepizzasitter



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Anal Sex, Basically this is mindless eldritch smut because my friends have been drawing again, Biting, Body Horror, Bottom Kibana | Raihan, Bottom Nezu | Piers, Consentacles, Eldritch, Eldritch Creature Piers, Enthusiastic Consent, Human Raihan, Human/Monster Romance, M/M, Minor Injuries, Monster Piers, Monster porn, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Smut, Teeth, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Top Kibana | Raihan, Top Nezu | Piers, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, human raihan and creature piers are going to have a very good time do not worry, if you see something you want tagged please let me know, sort of? I mean it's not really but that's the closest tag I could find, this is so freaking soft for a monsterfucking fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25063642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzasitter/pseuds/thepizzasitter
Summary: It lives in his house, and he might be a little bit in love with it.One moment he’d be alone in his room, the creature nowhere in the house, and the next, he’d hear a light scratching under the bed or in the closet or down the hall.He never went looking for it. He got the sense that it was grateful for that.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Comments: 36
Kudos: 204





	The Things We Love In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> The art that inspired this fic can be found [Here](https://twitter.com/VaudevilleRobot/status/1278841006826364930) and [Here](https://twitter.com/DEADxEYEZ/status/1255444175291658240) definitely go check these amazing artists out!  
> Some art has also been made since this was posted! You can find it:  
> [1](https://twitter.com/VaudevilleRobot/status/1279890939301986310), [2](https://twitter.com/raihieon/status/1279605717822029824), [3](https://twitter.com/bl00d_alchemist/status/1279547939837231104), [4](https://twitter.com/cochiino/status/1282930128469684224), [5](https://twitter.com/DEADxEYEZ/status/1282929955035156481), [6](https://twitter.com/merluvli/status/1282930491256176642), [7](https://twitter.com/meta_kz_/status/1322405131715895298/photo/3)
> 
> Okay so this fic is definitely not going to be to some people's tastes and that is 100% okay! I wrote it mostly to get the idea out of my head so I could focus on my other series, so it's hyper stylized. Please know that this is a very soft, easy monsterfucking fic for those who might be interested in diving into that sweet, sweet void. Everyone has a very good time. Hope you do too! Reminder to come hang out with me on Twitter! My main is ShyloRen and my Pokemon side account is CryptidPiers
> 
> Music I listened to was, of course, [In The Woods Somewhere](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6btN_cdLfE) by Hozier and [Teeth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vk5vRoc0_nk) by Lady Gaga. Enjoy!

It lives in his house, and he might be a little bit in love with it.

///

Things certainly didn’t start on a friendly note, but that’s on him when all is said and done. Whatever lives with him—and how strange to think of things like that now—has been here far longer than he has if the way more than one family has moved out of this house is any indication.

Haunted, the agent said, and he’d been inclined to believe her when he heard what others had said. And then he’d seen the inside, and there was no way it was anything but occupied. It felt taken up, the space less than the physical emptiness would suggest otherwise. He wasn’t stupid, knew better than to scoff and disregard the intelligence and traumas of those who had come before him.

Unfortunately, he owned this place now…

And it wasn’t the ghost of his grandfather who had owned and leased this place before he passed away that was haunting its halls.

The first night, he’d been on high alert, watching and waiting, wondering if maybe he ought to go get a room at a motel where he could actually stand a chance at getting some sleep.

He stopped wondering and started booking the room when he heard the beginnings of scratches under the bed.

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving!” He said hurriedly, and if the silence felt startled and confused as he walked out the door, he wasn’t going to question it.

“It’s not a ghost,” Nessa said when she took in the exhaustion around his eyes the next morning. “You’re looking at something like a poltergeist at least, if it can affect the physical world.”

Sonia had raised a brow and opted not to comment, but Raihan knew what she wanted to say.

He was grateful she didn’t.

///

He eventually called in experts, and they found nothing.

He’d seen how surprised they were, and it made him nervous.

“Ghost hunters and priests and all other sorts have been wantin’ to come around here for ages, but the renters never believe until it’s too late and they’re already packin’ up. Kind of shocked there’s nothin’ here, but…”

He might have laughed that night when the cupboards started banging open and shut right before he was about to fall asleep.

Nothing here his _arse_!

Unfortunately, it wasn’t pleased that he’d been trying to get rid of it, and it clearly took his laughter as a challenge rather than the terrified response to unnatural sounds in the middle of the night that it was.

He stayed another night in the motel when he could feel it slowly gathering the sheet from the opposite side of the bed. His feet hung off the edge no matter how big the mattress claimed to be, and he was taking no chances of accidentally straightening out from fetal position in his sleep.

“And it didn’t attack right then?” Nessa asked, surprised, when he called in the early hours of the morning, worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep affording the motel if this went on for more than a few weeks. “Well, that’s a good sign, isn’t it? You might be able to lure it out and get rid of it.”

“Absolutely, I’ll get right on risking my life for a stupid house I don’t even want,” he said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. He felt like a dick, but Nessa just sighed in exasperation.

“You could always sell it.”

_And a nightmare along with it._

She knew she had him with that.

///

“Look, I know things started off a bit poorly, but I’m alright with living together if you are. I’m Raihan.”

///

Appeasement seemed to work better than anything else. It was trial and error over the course of months and months, but he’d eventually found the things that worked best.

Some raw meat here and there, leaving the telly on something interesting, heavy metal and punk rock music when he left the house, no post carrier at the door (he’d requested they leave it at the end of the drive), and an endless supply of his hoodies.

In turn, there was no more wailing in the middle of the night, no more banging cupboards or static electricity thick enough to make his tongue hurt, no further claw marks on his walls or floors or ceilings, no broken crockery and windows.

Sometimes whatever it was forgot he hated finding dead things on the steps, but he knew the gesture was likely less of a threat and more of a beast wanting to please its housemate.

And that’s definitely what it was, he’d decided. There was no way this was some ethereal being of any kind, nothing from the veil or the places beyond. This thing lived like flesh and blood, regardless of whether it actually had those things or not.

And still, he never saw it, so it had to have at least one foot in the next reality. One moment he’d be alone in his room, his creature nowhere in the house, and the next, he’d hear a light scratching under the bed or in the closet or down the hall.

He never went looking for it.

He got the sense that it was grateful for that.

///

“Here,” he said absently, dropping his hoodie to the floor with a tired yawn, climbing into bed and pulling the covers over him. “I need that one back for Monday. Gonna go hang out with Lee and Gordie and they said on the telly that there’s gonna be a chill.”

The silence felt like acknowledgement. He could hear the zipper on the hoodie sliding across the floor.

Every day he felt simultaneously less and more insane, talking to the monster under his bed.

“Ta, mate,” he sighed with a small laugh, tugging the sheets back when it tried to start pulling them from the other side. He was asleep in minutes, glad it was finally the weekend.

///

Something woke him in the middle of the night, and he cracked an eye open.

He murmured sleepily in query, and felt his foot being moved back onto the bed. Had it flopped off the edge? What was—

 _Oh_.

His heartbeat was deafening as it started beating triple time, suddenly wide, wide awake.

Claws cradled his foot delicately, taking care to put it back under the sheets, and Raihan nearly whimpered.

It was one thing to think it was real. It was another thing to _know_.

He stayed very, very still, letting it do what it would. He could feel it still standing over him even after it had finished its task. Could sense eyes on him. Far more eyes than he expected to feel. This was new for them both, he could tell. He’d have known if this had happened before, there was no way he’d have been able to sleep with the static and the noise and the _want_ emanating around him.

“Too tempting?” He breathed.

He felt everything freeze.

He was an _idiot_ , oh fucking hell he was a moron and he was going to _die_ , he just knew—

“Yes.”

_Oh…_

_Holy_.

 _Shite_.

_It talked it talked it talked it—_

Just a whisper, something simultaneously gravel laden and high like bells, a dichotomy of existence and Raihan felt like he would never breathe again, always on the cusp of waiting for that sound, too afraid to do anything that might drown it out.

“Sorry about that,” he said shakily, but there was no answer.

No presence, no sign of his monster.

When he finally managed to sleep again, certain that it wasn’t coming back for the night, the birds were chirping outside his window.

///

It spent nearly three weeks away from him, and he had never been more depressed.

“What if it doesn’t come back?”

He didn’t dare ask Nessa to her face. The disappointment would be astronomical.

Sonia’s eyes were understanding, but relieved. Somehow, it was almost worse.

“Then I guess that will be that, won’t it?”

It wouldn’t be. Not by a long shot.

He didn’t think his heart would recover never knowing anything more, never hearing that voice again or feeling a presence nearby.

“Yeah, I guess it will be.”

///

It returned, and he nearly wept when he walked into his room and found all of his hoodies on the floor.

“Are you looking for the one with the dragon on the back?”

Silence.

And silence. And silence and silence and silence.

And—

“Yes.”

“It’s in the dryer, I forgot to take it out. One second.”

 _Please don’t leave_ , he pleaded in the safety of his mind. _Please don’t leave._

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he returned and could still feel it nearby. He held the hoodie for a moment, debating, before he set it down in front of the bed and didn’t move.

It was waiting for him to leave, or to turn the lights out and get into bed.

It was just past noon.

“You don’t have to come out,” he said, his voice unsteady. “But I would like you to, if you’re willing.”

The static was panicked, and a low wail started up from somewhere downstairs.

“Hey, hey,” he said, hands out to something that should be threatening, and instead was feeling threatened. “Like I said, you don’t have to. Just…think about it? I’d…I’d like to see you.”

The screaming got louder, drew closer.

“No.”

“But why not? Will something happen if I do?”

Silence and feelings, a frustration and anger and so much fear he thought it might actually be his own.

“You can’t actually speak, can you?” He realized. It was mimicking, using simple sounds that it would have picked up the meaning of easily as it terrorized the people who lived here before. He thought about glottal stops and Khoisan click language and wondered if that was a choice or the work of biology.

“No.”

“But you can understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, that’s fine. In that case…” he moved the hoodie closer before getting up to turn off the lights. It was fine, he decided, afternoon or not. He’d rather die than have it leave again. “Just gonna go downstairs to get lunch. You want anything?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, I have some Maccies for you from a few days ago.”

The pleasure rippling through the air had him swallowing hard.

///

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered into the darkness that night when he felt eyes on his back once more.

There was no answer, but he fell asleep easily for the first time in weeks nonetheless.

///

His dreams were filled with oppressive heat and a mouth full of teeth and eyes full of need and something in the shadows and want and want and want and _want_.

He woke up sweating, the stickiness in his joggers doing nothing to detract from how empty he felt.

He shoved a hand between his legs and hoped like mad that it wasn’t in the room with him.

///

Another month came and went, and the first half was bliss with his monster in his home where it belonged.

And then…

“I was watching that,” he griped when the channel changed for the fifth time that hour. The restlessness was overwhelming, an agitation that bordered on the feralness he sometimes saw in the eyes of local wildlife when they were too lost to disease to do anything but shriek and cease to keep living.

He didn’t know what was wrong, had tried to ask a week ago and had been treated to cold, bitter quiet despite knowing it was still there. The tension had been building and the air had grown thicker and thicker.

A sudden, horrible noise from upstairs, and he was climbing them in threes to stare at the wall of his hallway, massive claw marks from end to end for the first time in ages.

“That is _it_!” He shouted, punching a fist to the wall. “What the actual _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

Snarling and another awful sound from downstairs as he heard something crash in the kitchen. Screaming started up in his room and he ran back to the first floor to find shattered glass all over the tiles.

“Knock it the fuck off!”

The screaming got so loud he had to cover his ears.

“Fine, then! Fucking tosser!”

He slammed the door on the way out, calling Leon to see if he could crash there for a night. There was always the motel if not.

He didn’t notice his hands were shaking until he dropped his phone trying to hang up.

He stayed with Leon for two nights, Nessa for one, and six in his car.

///

It had been a long time since he had been afraid in this house, but when he opened the door and heard the low, agonized sobbing that felt like it had sunk into the very skeleton of the place itself, he nearly walked right back out.

It didn’t stop when he came inside. Didn’t stop when he swept up the glass and started repairing the walls once more. Didn’t stop when he collapsed, drained and hurting, into bed and let some silent tears of his own escape onto the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” he said into the darkness, and felt an immediate, terrified answer in kind. His heart ached, wishing he knew what it needed. As strange as it might have sounded, it was the first reminder in a while that the thing he shared his home with wasn’t human. He had no idea what he was doing, was so far out of his depth and yet—

“Please don’t leave me,” it mimicked brokenly, and Raihan let out a choked sound and put his hand over the side of the bed.

The weeping quieted a little, and he drew courage from it and reached under in offering.

He counted two hundred and forty-one seconds before he felt claws hesitantly wrap around his fingers.

He fell asleep when the crying finally stopped.

///

Another few months and Nessa was peering at him with an odd expression on her face.

“You seem…happier.”

“I am.” _Fuck_ , but he really, really was.

It was living in his house, and he was definitely more than a little in love with it.

///

“Y’know, offer’s still out there if you ever want to come watch in person with me,” Raihan said as casually as he could, eyes on the screen.

“No.”

He shrugged and nodded. “Just saying. Hey, do you mind if I change the channel? I’m thinking something stupid and trashy tonight.”

“Yes.”

He laughed and flipped stations. The eagerness in its gravelbell voice was so sweet.

///

He woke in the middle of the night feeling a sense of déjà vu.

Something was touching his foot.

Only…

It was also touching his leg. And his sides. And his hair. And…

He slowly closed his fingers around a claw resting over his hand, just barely able to make out the shape of it in the murky, static-laden darkness. Tendrils were undulating slowly around him, like they belonged to a being afraid that making one wrong move would send him running from the room.

He'd been having dreams again.

Ones like this, ones that bit back.

He spread his legs, feeling it nestle in closer against him, and he barely breathed when he heard light scratching at his headboard while it settled on top of him. Content, like a cat kneading a blanket. It was surprisingly light, but he could feel the power of its long body, the way it would likely dwarf even him if he stood beside it. He tried to get a feel for it, mapping what he could in his mind, and he shivered when something long and wet licked at his naked back.

“Yes?” It asked, and he moaned quietly at the question in its voice.

His beautiful, perfect monster.

“Yes,” he murmured.

///

“More,” he begged, deciding he wasn’t going to care when whatever hospital he ended up at started asking questions he couldn’t answer.

He arched back against claw tips gliding carefully down his spine, feeling one scratch enough to bleed, and he trembled when something unhinged and opened up against his shoulder and teeth grazed over his skin.

If this was how he died, he honestly didn’t mind.

“Yes,” he pleaded, and a jaw clamped over him, breaking through easily while he screamed and smeared precome all over his sheets from where he was desperately hard and aching, unable to rut against the mattress when it used the leverage to hoist him up to his hands and knees.

It licked over the bite wound as it had the others, its saliva stinging and just as exquisite a pain as its teeth. Something in him ached at the thought, and he finally reached back with his damaged arm to spread himself open, to let his monster see where it might sheath itself in him.

Anything it wanted, he thought as the static around him buzzed in anticipation. It was curious, he could feel the way it hungered and wanted to know more, to take its time deconstructing him and finding how many ways it could be inside him at once.

Its massive claws cradled his front, drawing him in close effortlessly, and he keened quietly when a thick, long tongue laved at his hole. Oh it was…

It was being gentle with him, he suddenly realized.

Its tongue messily worked its way into him and sharp, perpetually grinning teeth were so very, very close to where he was most vulnerable.

Somehow the fear only served to make him harder.

He jolted when it came into contact with his prostate, the scalding heat of it unbearable. He bowed his back, keeping his hips raised so it could slide deeper into him, and he put a hand to his stomach to feel its movement inside him.

The wet squelch of it fucking in and out of him felt obscene, and yet he couldn’t have said why that was any more or less so than this whole situation at large. Didn’t think he could say much of anything at all when a second smaller, less versatile tongue moved under him to cradle his cock against it.

“Oh god,” he choked out, gripping hard enough at the sheets under him that _he_ tore them, rather than the creature behind him.

By the time it had deemed him open enough, he had already come.

It cleaned him off with its smaller tongue, the feeling of it coarse and painful against his oversensitive skin. He never wanted it to stop.

The tendrils had begun solidifying, more than shadows and illusions on the wall now, and they wrapped around him, the black and white of them visible even in the dark. He mouthed along one that was clearly entertaining the idea of winding around his neck, grateful when the being over him gave what he thought must be a pleased sigh and fed it into his mouth.

It felt good on his tongue, and he took it as deeply as he could, breathing through his nose to compensate for how lightheaded he felt when it touched the back of his throat. He hummed around it, wondering if it felt like getting a cock sucked or something else entirely for his monster, and nearly choked from laughing when it hummed back.

He pulled off and pressed his forehead to the pillow, giggling and wondering if he had, indeed, gone insane.

The tendril was back in an instant, prodding insistently, and he opened his mouth again so it could return to the pleasure it had clearly been feeling. More were wrapping around him to hold him down and spread his legs, keeping him locked in place, and even through the haze of afterglow that was quickly melding into a new wave of arousal, he wished he could see his creature as it moved just over his shoulder.

All thoughts vanished the moment it rested itself fully against him.

 _Half a dozen tentacles at least are touching me_ , he thought deliriously. _Fucking hell_.

They were each dripping against his skin, and god but he _wanted_ —

He suddenly felt his world spin as he was flipped over onto his back and…

And…

A soft, desperate sound left his throat.

Six eyes, glowing against the rest of the darkness were all on him, _seeing_ him and watching and every last one of them shared the same intent, the same hunger for him, and yet they were also…vaguely terrified.

_Of him?_

It let him look his fill, limited as his vision was, loosened its hold on him and the tendril in his mouth slithered out to join the others writhing behind the monster.

It was a hulking mass of spike and spine and tendril and bone and claw. Its body was a strange, chaotic blend of insect and skeleton, its jaw open and fluttering in clear discomfort the longer he stared. He tugged at the tendrils restraining him instinctively, wanting to touch, and was surprised when they immediately became shadow once more.

He slowly reached up, terrified of touching a body he didn’t know, didn’t understand yet, and had a feeling this creature was thinking the same thing.

“Tell me if something doesn’t feel good,” he whispered, his voice raspy and stilted from the way his throat had been fucked. He started with its forehead, running his thumbs over the hard shell of it. The top part of its face looked the most human, but that was where the similarities ended.

The silence around him was startled, unsure before the air was suddenly humming with something deeper.

Two of its eyes closed, small mirror ones that were lower and farther out than the others. The rest stayed on him, darting back and forth from his face to his body and back again, over and over.

He traced over pointed ear tips, biting his lip when two tendrils wrapped around his wrists to keep him there a while longer, small chitters of pleasure vibrating in the monster’s chest that Raihan hadn’t heard before.

He never wanted to hear anything else.

When it eventually released him, it moved his hands down past its throat, where he would have feasibly gone next. He made a note of it, moving on towards the skeletal chest, spine, and hips. It seemed to do little besides comfort the creature as he explored, its body relaxing more and more the longer he kept touching it.

He took in a shaky breath when he got to its tentacles, emerging and writhing from somewhere dark and wet that made a low wail start up from down the hall when he brushed a thumb over it. He carefully explored further inside, his other hand idly playing with the tentacles that were clasping at him and winding around his wrist. He looked up and nearly came again when he realized that all of its eyes were closed, its jaw hanging open and a rapt expression of need on its face.

Its claws raked down the wall over his headboard when he pulled it in closer by the hips, guiding the tentacles down to where he was open and so very, very empty. All of its eyes went wide and the gravelbell sounds were falling rapidly when one of them began to push its way inside him.

His fingers came away soaked from its hole, and he thought about the potential danger for only a moment before he started to lick them clean. It was a strange taste, but not so different overall. He wondered how his come had tasted to his monster when he’d cleaned him up.

His train of thought abandoned him and he started panting when a second appendage joined the first, the stretch of it already better than any cock he’d taken.

“Fuck,” he moaned, and the creature loomed in close, nearly folding itself in half to watch where it was disappearing into his body. He cried out when a tendril tugged at his length, drawing him up and into the place where the tentacles were sheltered. It was tight, and he nearly passed out when another tentacle started to work its way into him and its walls clamped down around him in pleasure.

“Oh my god that feels so _fucking_ good,” he gasped, and his monster seemed to agree as it frantically tried to force another of its tentacles into him.

“Easy, easy,” he whimpered, and it chittered in distress at him before he reached up to stroke its face, letting his hands get scraped up by the teeth of its open jaw. “Can’t take that much at once, gotta go slow.” Neither of them had moved very much, so he set to distracting them both by thrusting carefully into the soft heat of the other’s body.

The creature’s eyes all closed at once and the buzzing in the air had shivers wracking his frame, the tentacles inside him suddenly flaring in response. He gave a choked moan and thrust back against them before he was drawn back in, hips stuttering and unable to decide which he ought to be chasing.

“Use me,” he begged, gripping tight to the bony hips as he heard a high-pitched keen start up in the other’s throat. “Oh fuck, that’s—ah! Can’t think like this, please, just—”

It wrapped its claws around him and he couldn’t be bothered to cry out when one managed to cut up his back a little, instead reserving that for when the tendrils took over and held him up so that his monster could start fucking him in earnest.

It didn’t thrust into him, instead it kept still as its tentacles moved within him, a constant assault on his senses that had him screaming and screaming and screaming, his cock throbbing inside the creature as it worked him over, breeding him, its body tightening and relaxing rhythmically until he could do nothing but take it, the heat spreading through him when he suddenly found its face pushed up close to his own.

It stared at him, more pleasure in its expression than he’d ever been able to see on a human, and he felt a thrill of fear and arousal light him up when its jaw started opening and closing as it gazed at him, like it wanted nothing more than to close it around his head and feast.

“You could.”

In one movement too fast for his eyes to track, it suddenly pushed him down until he was on his back once more, its massive form fully caging him in and its jaws primed to kill as it held him down and forced one more tentacle into him as he sobbed, its solidness blurring and an awful, horrible noise echoing through the entire house while it menaced over him.

It only took a few more movements of the appendages inside him and the threat of teeth at his neck to send him over the edge.

He came helplessly on its tentacles, his body seizing up hard and spilling inside the haven of its body, mind an incoherent mess when one by one the tentacles released something hot and viscous deep within him.

It felt like it went on forever, and he wished it actually would. Wanted to be caught up in its grip and kept as long as it wanted him.

He felt so full, whimpered low in his throat when they slid out as they finished pulsing, retracting back into the creature. Its slick dripped out of him with the loss of each one, and he reached down to trace his used, puffy hole, wishing he could keep it inside him a while longer. It shuddered when all but one had returned to its sheath, Raihan’s own softening cock still inside it among the others.

He started to pull out slowly, breathing hard despite hardly having moved at all as his monster had taken him. His hips stuttered when it tried to keep him inside it by tightening around his length.

“Okay,” he murmured, tugging it down to lie over him. He reached down to the last tentacle, caressing its sides as it curled and writhed against his palm. He trapped it against his stomach, letting it seek its friction against the press of his fingers until it too released its slick against his skin.

The creature’s larger tongue had vanished into its mouth, only the smaller remaining to lick at his wounds, moving onto his chest and then his neck in supplication.

It still trembled, its hole fluttering around him.

He felt too wrung out and sore to even think about getting hard again that night, too fucked out to do much more than slowly thrust his mostly soft cock into its body. He reached a hand down to use his fingers instead, exhausted but fascinated when he felt the tentacles moving alongside them in self-stimulation.

He followed where they went until he found a handful of spots that seemed to be working for his sweet monster. Tendrils wrapped around his wrist when he started fingering those places in earnest, the wailing from the hallway traveling throughout the house as the creature let out sound after sound of pleasure when it tightened around his fingers and came.

They two of them laid in the quiet of the night air as Raihan waited for it to stop shaking, petting soothingly over its tendrils and its skeletal form while it thrummed under his hands and closed its eyes.

He didn’t know why it surprised him that it wanted a cuddle, but he was glad of it.

Eventually, the aches and pains made themselves known, and he groaned, sitting up and glancing over at his mirror to assess the damage.

All in all, nothing so bad it couldn’t wait for treatment besides what he had in the house.

“Don’t leave,” he said softly as he gingerly got up, his entire existence screaming in protest.

“Don’t leave,” it mimicked, the consonants and vowels barely discernible as words, looking more afraid than something that could tear him apart had any right to be.

“I won’t, I’ll be right back,” he said, and it let a handful of gravelbell noises echo in the space before it let him go, shifting around on the bed like it was trying to get comfortable on the topside of it for once.

He stared at himself in the mirror after he’d taken care of his wounds, resolving to panic tomorrow instead of right then. It wouldn’t change anything anyways, not when he wanted this more than anything, but he could forgive himself a very human reaction to what he would—with any luck—be cuddled up against tonight.

And possibly, for the foreseeable future.

A slow grin spread across his face and he practically sprinted back to the bedroom despite how much it hurt to do so.

Its jaw had finally closed, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the lessened chance of him losing his head tonight. Tomorrow would be a different story, when he’d have to let Nessa and the others know what was going on.

It had such a soft looking mouth like this.

“Stay still?” He requested as he climbed back into bed. The silence was curious, sated and willing to let him experiment.

He brushed their lips together, closing his eyes and nibbling lightly at the soft bottom lip. It hummed in approval, drawing back to look at his teeth, clearly pleased with what it saw.

“Like mine too, huh?” He laughed, sighing happily when it leaned in to repeat the kiss, using its façade to carefully explore his mouth.

“You’re alarmingly good at that,” he panted when he broke off for air, and the smugness that radiated from his monster had him chuckling and pulling it in close as he laid down against the pillow.

He had a thousand questions, wanted to answer a thousand more.

There was time—he hoped—at least.

But for now…

“If you’re still here with me tomorrow,” he whispered. “If you’re as real as it felt, and I wake up with your marks and your eyes on me…what do I call you?”

Silence, and a feeling. Something with no language, no sound.

He knew it anyways.

Knew it somewhere beneath his ribs and in the sounds of his home.

“Piers,” he said softly, letting his lips ghost over its neck, heart soaring when the other allowed it and clicked quietly at him. “See you in the morning.”

He fell asleep between one breath and the next.

And didn’t dream of anything at all.


End file.
